


lipstick

by aerobreaking



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Future Fic, I am so sorry, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, no angst here ya'll just blowjobs, remember when I said no angst just blowjobs?, well now there's angst AND blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24432919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerobreaking/pseuds/aerobreaking
Summary: (1) Viktor has a thing for red.(2) Viktor has a lot of hesitations and on the flip side, Yuri has a lot of growing up to do.
Relationships: Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

Yuri left the banquet early, usually, he would have stayed and caused a riot but today he excused himself citing a headache. It’s not entirely a lie. Viktor had decided that it would be a _great_ idea to pull one of his surprises and announce to the world that he was retiring. _Again._ This time, however, it was really the end for him. At thirty-one he could not bear the pain his back gave him anymore and though he was giving everyone his usual stupid, careless smile, Yuri knew he was feeling under the weather. 

Yuri hated Viktor’s surprises because they were generally at his expense and they gave him the _worst_ tension headaches. But he had known Viktor was retiring, he been the first one he told this time around and that was only because Yuri had made it very, _very_ clear when they started dating that if Viktor pulled a stunt like the one he pulled when he was twenty-eight Yuri would hang him by the balls. 

So currently, he’s in the bathroom of the hotel room they shared as _“teammates.”_ He’s waiting for the last of the nail polish to dry as he looks at his phone, it’s nearing eleven and he wonders, idly, if Viktor was feeling bad enough to go bar hopping with Chris. He hoped not if not his plans would be ruined and he’d have to wait until tomorrow morning.

Just as he’s debating on whether to throw in the towel and take off his costume and go to sleep instead, his phone rings. 

“Hello,” He speaks into the receiver.

“Kittennn,” Viktor slurs, drawing out the nickname until it tapers off into a moan of pain, “Where have you _been_?”

“Are you drunk?” Yuri asks instead of answering his question.

“Nooo,” Viktor says, sounding offended, “I’m _Russian._ I don’t get drunk.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, “So, you’re drunk.”

“Okay,” Viktor hiccups, “I might be a little tipsy but I’m walking straight.”

“Mmm,” Yuri hums, “So, why were you calling?” He looks around the bathroom, trying to find the last touch to the stupidity he was going to do. He rummages through his bag, moving the makeup around, to find the stupid thing.

“I was…thinking of going bar-hopping with Chris…”  


Yuri abruptly stops, his shoulders dropping. Ugh. “Okay, so then go.”

“Really?” His voice sounds disappointed. 

“Uhhh, do you not want to go?”

“Weeeellll, not particularly.”

Yuri almost wants to laugh, “So you wanna play the ‘my boyfriend told me no’ card?”

“Yep,” Viktor murmurs, “So tell me no.”

Yuri starts looking for the tube again, “Okay, then, you can’t go. I don’t want you waking me up in the middle of the night.”

“Your wish is my command, my love.” His boyfriend says, suddenly chipper. “See you soon.”

He finally locates the stupid lipstick in his makeup bag and makes sure it’s the one he wanted to wear. He looks at the bottom and it reads _Russian Red._ Perfect.

He applies it with a steady hand, careful to not get it stained all over his skin. He wants to make sure he doesn’t become a laughing stock. Viktor would not let him live it down.

A few weeks ago, before the Grand Prix started, Yuri had been swatching lipsticks on his forearm from the large kit Mac Cosmetics had sent Mila as a PR gift. He had liked some of them, especially this red one, and swiped them from Mila’s selection. It’s not like she would miss them anyway, she had two other cases. When he’d gotten home he’d tried them on and Viktor had stared.

And _stared._

“Is there something on my face?” Yuri had asked him.

“You’re wearing lipstick,” He dumbly responded. 

Yuri had rolled his eyes, “Yeah _and_?”

“Nothing,” He’d said, but his eyes wouldn’t meet Yuri’s because he was too busy staring at Yuri’s lips, “You…just don’t…”

“But now I am, so—“

His sentence had been cut short because Viktor had wrapped an arm around his waist, pulled him close, and dipped his head down to catch Yuri’s lips in a kiss. He’d had wanted to push him away but Viktor only tightened his hold on him until Yuri gave in and kissed fervently back. When they separated, their breaths had been hot and the older man smiled cheekily, running a thumb through his lips, and murmured, “Didn’t smear.”

Yuri had thought about that incident later and belatedly remembered that Viktor had a thing for red. So it got him thinking.

And all that thinking had culminated to this. 

Granted, it’s not as risqué as other things they have done. And there have been _worst_ things because Viktor was a sadistic shit even if no one else believed it.

He exits the bathroom and goes to sit on the armchair to wait for his boyfriend. He’s not sure how much time passes but soon, too soon, the lock on the door is turning and Viktor is slipping inside. He doesn’t notice Yuri at first, too busy slipping off his coat and complaining about the cold, and how Yuuri had, once again, lost his shit when they were drinking. “Why’d you leave so early Yura? Do you know how hard it was to convince everyone to—“

He stops.

And finally takes in Yuri on the armchair. 

And Yuri can’t help feel the shiver that goes down his back when he sees Viktor taking all of him in. He had his long hair down and he’s donning his free skate costume. It’s all black, with a high neck and red rhinestones creating swirling patters, it’s probably his most simple costume. But as he watches Viktor swallow a knot in his throat, he knows it’s not a problem. Yuri _knows_ how to get Viktor hot and bothered.

He gives him a simple smile, and Viktor’s eyes immediately zero in on his lips, he gets up from the chair, his feet clad in black socks since he can’t wear his skates and slowly walks up to him. He tells him, “I didn’t want to stay and listen to everyone lament your retirement. It’s about time, anyway.”

Viktor clears his throat, “That’s very mean.” 

Yuri raises an eyebrow, running his hands over Viktor’s chest, and the older man looks down at Yuri’s hands and his brow quirks when he notices that Yuri’s nails are also painted red. “Well, it’s not like I’m nice anyway.”

“Is there—Is there something you’re trying to do, Yura?”

Yuri tilts his head to the side, “Maybe.”

He reaches for Viktor’s hand and pulls him towards the armchair he was previously sitting on. He pushes Viktor down and straddles his lap, “You have a thing for red, don’t you Vitya?”

Viktor lets out a noise from the back of his throat, “You could say that.”

Yuri kisses him, slowly, and he can feel Viktor getting hard under him. He runs his hands through his hair and his strong shoulders. In turn, Viktor’s hands slide up his thighs and to his hips. Yuri presses one last chaste kiss to his lips and gets off him and the older man almost whines. 

Yuri’s fingers find the buttons on Viktor’s dress shirt and he starts undoing them. He kisses the corner of his mouth and starts to slowly trail down his lips through his neck down his pecs, to his abs, until he’s finally stopping at his belt. He drops to his knees. 

“Yura,” Viktor sighs, his hands moving through his blond hair.

Yuri undoes the belt slowly but when the buckle is free, he doesn’t lower the zipper of his pants or undo the button. Instead, he places his hand on Viktor’s shaft, gripping it, and waiting it for it to fully harden and grow to its most excited state. He nips at the skin on Viktor’s stomach, giving him a preview of what’s to come. 

Viktor is unusually responsive today, and Yuri figures it has something to do with the red on his lips and nails. He has to admit, it contrasts nicely on his pale skin. 

“Yura, please,” Viktor murmurs, and Yuri looks up at him from his spot on the floor.  


“Please what?” He asks, massaging his cock with the palm of his hand.

“Don’t be mean to me,” Viktor whines, closing his eyes and taking a shuddering breath.

Yuri rolls his eyes because Viktor is always so dramatic about it. He doesn’t like to beg but he sure likes to be begged to. He runs his hands over his pants again, tracing the perfect outline of his cock. 

“You only have to say it once,” Yuri tells him, and Viktor groans like he’s been told he can’t bring Makkachin inside a store. 

Yuri halts his ministrations and a few seconds pass before Viktor groans again, looks down at Yuri’s expectant gaze and grits through his teeth, “Please, _please_ take my cock in your pretty mouth for fuck's sake.”

Ah, that’s interesting. 

Yuri finally undoes the button, pulls the zipper down, and releases Viktor’s hardened dick from it’s containment. He grips it firmly in his hand and his lover lets out a breathy moan. Slowly he pumps it, from the base all the way to the tip, over and over, torturously, until precum is starting to ooze out. He brushes his lips against it, giving it tiny, barely-there kisses, and when Viktor is really starting to get impatient above him, Yuri finally gives in and takes it in his mouth. Viktor releases a sound crossed somewhere between a moan and a groan.

The blond bobs his head up and down, gripping the base and squeezing as he lets it go deeper and deeper into his mouth. He feels Viktor move his hair out of the way so he can better take in Yuri’s red lips stretched out around his cock. He hums and the vibrations make Viktor moan louder, he pulls off with a pop and uses the remaining saliva as lubricant to get his hand to slide up and down more easily. 

He licks the enlarged vein on his boyfriend's dick, dragging his the flat of his tongue against it at a snail's pace. He leans back on his ankles and looks up at Viktor who has not taken his eyes off of him in the entire time. His pupils are blown wide and Yuri holds his gaze as he swirls his thumb around the tip. Viktor shudders. He spits more saliva on his other palm and places one hand on top of the other, making sure Viktor sees the red on his nails and jacks him off wetly. The older man looks as though he’s going to lose his mind. 

He continues for a moment longer and then, he takes the cock in his mouth again and uses one hand to pump the shaft in the same rhythm as he bobs his head. The wet sounds only seem to more obscene as Viktor’s cock gets even more coated with Yuri’s saliva. Above him, Viktor seems to be switching between cursing in Russian and English. 

“You’re so pretty,” He’s babbling, “Fuck, _fuck,_ your mouth is so pretty.”

He’s getting close, Yuri can tell from the way his abs are beginning to tense and he really has half a mind to release him and not let him cum, but he’s trying to cheer him up, not get him even more upset. So he continues bobbing his head at a greater speed, he relaxes his throat and takes him in even deeper, until Viktor is penetrating him deeply. He breathes in through his nose and swallows.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” He exclaims, “I’m—I’m gonna—“

Yuri presses his face even closer until his nose is brushing up against Viktor’s silver hairs, he shakes his head slightly and swallows again, and again. Viktor is pressing his head down further, encouraging him and moving his hips as he fucks his mouth. The older man’s body beings to curl in and his hands are on the blonds back. It’s uncomfortable, because his air is getting cut off but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent in his eager sucking. Yuri holds his breath until he’s seconds away from choking but after one last swallow, Viktor finally reaches ecstasy and comes down Yuri’s throat. 

Yuri gulps it down and Viktor very nearly sobs at the overstimulation. 

When the ribbons of white cum finally cease, Viktor falls back on the chair and Yuri releases his softened dick from his mouth, coming up for air like a man that had been drowning. He breathes in air in gulps and flinches when he feels pain on the back of his throat. 

For a few moments, they both try to collect their breath individually. Viktor looks down at him through half-lidded eyes. “You have—“ He says, pointing at the corner of his lip “—some left.”

Yuri tries to use his tongue to wipe it off but from the way Viktor’s lips are pulling back into a lazy grin he doubts he managed to get it. 

The blond stands and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Viktor looks at him with a small smile and says, “Come here.”

Yuri straddles his lap again, kissing him full on the mouth and letting him taste himself on his tongue. Their ardent kisses eventually slow into something soft and intimate, their tongues dance lazily with each other and Yuri sighs. He’s always been a sucker for kisses.

Viktor presses one last peck on his red lips before he’s pulling back and looking up at him with adoring eyes, “I like that color on you.”

Yuri snorts, “Yeah, that’s why you came so fast.”

Viktor’s hands are running up his thighs again and Yuri leans down to kiss him again. Viktor slides his hand up his back and his right hand is pulling the zipper of his costume down, and Yuri smiles wickedly, “You gonna repay me?”

“Maybe,” The older man murmurs. “Why did you chose this costume?”

Because it’s simple, because he wanted to go for a more ‘mature’ theme this time, because it fits him good and it’s skin tight and well, more than that, “Because you liked it on me.”

Viktor cups his cheek with his other hand, caressing his cheek with his thumb, “Yeah, it looks great on you.”

Viktor pulls the fabric down his shoulders and Yuri gets closer, until he’s next to his ear and sincerely says, “Congrats on your silver.”

His lover lets out a laugh, “Thank you, I can say I’m retiring with no regrets.” His voice lowers a few octaves, “Now let me congratulate you for your gold.”

Yuri blinks, surprised there is no disguised bitterness in his tone. 

Viktor takes advantage of his distraction to slide his arms under his ass and stands up. Yuri automatically wraps his legs around him. He walks the few steps to the bed and sets him down carefully on the sheets.

“I thought you would be more upset about it,” He honestly says, as Viktor works on getting his arms out of the shirt.

“I’m really not. Besides, I hear there’s some kid who’s coach is about to retire. Maybe I can latch on to him and make him better.”

“Fuck you, I’m amazing.”

“Oh, you’re right on both accounts my dearest.” He teases. He looks down at Yuri and his eyes once again slide down to his lips. 

Yuri wants to groan at his boyfriends lame jokes and Viktor kisses him again and against his lips he says, “I love you.”

Yuri blushes, “I love you too. Now fuck me, I’ve been waiting all week.”

Viktor laughs, and says, his voice dark and thick with lust, “Oh Yura you have no idea how much I’ve been wanting do just that.”


	2. extra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your kudos, comments, and bookmarks!!

The apartment is quiet when Viktor gets home, the curtains drawn shut and the living room empty. It’s exactly in the state he left it an hour ago and he’s glad. He knows his lover too well and if he had thought Viktor was taking too long he’d start dinner on his own. He puts the groceries he had gone out to buy away and gets to making the food.

Yuri—despite all his denial and cursing—had come down with _a cold straight from the deepest level of hell_ as he’d dubbed it. He’d been really angry with himself about it and he’d been lamenting the whole situation for the past week. The reason for this being that he’d come down with a fever the night before they were supposed to leave to Bora Bora. Yuri had wanted to still make the trip but Viktor had been steadfast in his denial which had only cause Yuri to get _angrier._ In the end, however, it had been the right decision. Because for the next few nights Yuri had barely even managed to get out of bed. He had the worst cough and at night his coughing only got worse and Yuri couldn’t sleep and since Yuri couldn’t sleep, Viktor couldn’t either.

Despite that Viktor had been right, Yuri still didn’t want to admit it and he was steadfast on being a brat about it. He huffed and puffed anytime Viktor gave him medicine and food and Viktor could do nothing but pretend to be exasperated. But honestly, he enjoyed it, enjoyed that he was taking care of Yuri in such a domestic way.

Yuri was thankfully a lot better now, but he was still upset about the vacation thing. Viktor can’t imagine why. It’s not as though they won’t have other opportunities to go. But as he’s come to understand in the years of dating Yuri, Yuri’s prickly attitude could be attributed to a number of things, from not doing well in practice to the weather. It just depended and all Viktor could do was take it in stride. Especially since Yuri the majority of the time wasn’t upset at Viktor but at _himself._ So he never took it personally.

Thinking about it now, there have only been a handful of times when both of them have been truly _upset_ at each other. It makes Viktor stop in the middle of the kitchen and remember with particular disdain, the first time they totally missed the mark with each other.

* * *

Viktor isn’t stupid.

He knows what he’s doing is wrong, hell, he would take himself straight to jail if it wasn’t for the fact it would make Yuri upset. Yuri’s seventeen the first time he kisses him— _barely._ Honestly, Viktor commends himself for holding out that long because honestly, he’s been wanting to do it for a while. He tried to ignore it for a long time—he was disgusted at himself—repulsed. But that day Yuri had looked so genuinely happy, so content, that Viktor was unable to stop himself. Looking back on it, he didn’t regret it. Not _really._ He’d made sure to set boundaries though because he knew—he _knew_ —it could all go to hell in a matter of minutes. Just one slip up and his entire world would go to shit, which is why, that New Years, when Yuri and he have been _official_ for nine months it upsets him when Yuri casually drops the bomb that he told his grandfather about them.

For a moment, Viktor thinks he’s joking.

He stops what he’s doing and looks up from the tablet, “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“Deduska said he wanted to meet you, officially, as—“ He motions between them, “—my boyfriend.”

“You’re joking.” He says because Yuri _has_ to be joking.

Yuri shakes his head, “No…I want you to come to my place today and,” He flushes—it would have been endearing any other time—and scratches his cheek, “Introduce you.”

Viktor can’t feel the tips of his fingers and doesn’t realize that he’s unattractively gaping until Yuri says, “Don’t look at me like that.”

Viktor clicks his mouth shut and clenches his jaw. He breathes heavily through his nostrils, hoping that maybe this is some sort of misunderstanding. “Wait,” He begins, trying to act like a reasonable adult, “What exactly did you tell him?”

Yuri blinks, “I told him I was seeing someone and that I wanted to introduce you to him.”

 _Good,_ Viktor thinks, _so he has some common sense._

“Yura,” He begins now, calmer, more in control, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? I’ll be eighteen in three months, what difference does it make?”

“A lot,” Viktor says, “I thought we agreed we would keep this a secret.”

“Forever?” Yuri asks, incredulously.

“Yura, you know our society isn’t as kind to people like us,” He begins slowly, “Even if your age wasn’t a problem—we would never be able to be together publicly.”

“I _know_ that,” The younger says with a huff, “But this is my grandfather—I want him to know about you.”

“You can’t be _this_ naive.” As soon as the words leave Viktor’s mouth he knows they were the wrong words to say. Yuri’s hackles immediately go up.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Viktor tries to backtrack but he knows now that he made a jab at Yuri’s immaturity the chances of them having a composed conversation are slim to none. “What I mean is, don’t you think you’re rushing into this? We haven’t even been together a year.” And this again is another mistake.

“What?” Yuri begins through gritted teeth, “You think I don’t know what I want?”

“That’s not what I’m saying! But you can’t be sure that we—“

“Yes, I can!”

“ _No,_ you can’t.” The silver-haired man forcefully says, “You’re not even an adult yet how could you _possibly—_ “

“I’m adult enough for you!” He shouts. Now truly angry and upset, “You don’t mind my age when you have your tongue down my throat.”

“Well, this is exactly why it'll never progress further than that.” Viktor snaps back.

Yuri’s bottom lip quivers and his eyes glaze over in tears and he spits, “ _Fuck you.”_

The older man only shakes his head, as if dealing with a petulant child—which honestly is the truth—and rolls his eyes. “What did you think I was going to say, Yuri? _Sure! Let me meet your grandfather_ so he can call the police!”

“He would never do that!”

“You don’t know that!” Viktor’s voice is beginning to raise. “Have you even told him you like men?”

Yuri’s silence is all the answer he needs and Viktor laughs at the absurdity.

“You don’t get it, do you? You just _don’t get it._ Not only am I older than you but a man too, your grandfather could say I coerced you into a relationship and that’s the end of me. You get to go home with him and I get a nice bunk in some remote Siberian prison where my superiors can kill me if they want all because I loved you.”

Yuri’s tears are pouring down his cheeks now and Viktor would like to wipe them away but he can’t bring himself to do it. Suddenly the difference in their age and mentality is just too great a chasm to try and overcome.

“He wouldn’t—“ Yuri whispers, choking on his words, “My grandfather would never do that. He loves me—he would never hurt me.”

“Yeah,” Viktor nods, “I thought my father would never hurt me too. And look at where that’s gotten me,” He spreads his arms to motion to his apartment, “I have all the money I could ever want but the people I loved the most all walked out on me. Why? Because it’s shameful and they didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Yuri looks around his apartment and sniffs, “Fine,” He says, finally, “Stay here and refuse to move on.”

Yuri runs out of there as if he were running away from hell itself and Viktor stays in his seat on the couch for hours. Unmoving, thinking about how he wishes he had the strength to go after his Yura.

Viktor had once held the illusion that his family would love him no matter what. His parents had been by his side always _always always_ until he confessed he liked women _and men._ His father had spit in his face, called him every insult under the sun as his mother looked up to the heavens and cried, _where did I go wrong?_

They had disowned him, chased him away, and told him they never wanted to see his face again. And the only reason they hadn’t outed him was because _they_ didn’t want to part of his shame.

So looking at Yuri now, so hopeful, so carefree about these things just made Viktor want to protect him. He had no reason to believe Nikolai Plisetsky didn’t love his grandson but he knew how easily those bound by the old way of thinking would turn on you. Maybe he should have been kinder about it, informed him of these harsh truths more calmly, but his own emotions had gotten the best of him and everything had spilled out before he could stop it.

Even that little joke with Yuuri had resulted in him almost losing his entire standing in Russian society. Every time Yuuri and he had trained at the Yubileyny they had been awaited by an angry crowd outside the sport complex until Yakov had to ask Viktor to make a statement that the whole thing about the marriage was a joke. He did—through gritted teeth and razor-sharp smiles. Yuuri didn’t train with them long because even after Viktor tried clearing everything up the media and the bigots didn’t stop hounding him. Eventually, Yuuri had gone back to Japan when the intense hatred he was receiving online became too overwhelming. Viktor had been so ashamed of himself, knowing that he’d almost caused Yuuri to have another breakdown. But Yuuri, ever the so kind person that he was, had only tiredly smiled at the airport and said, “I know it wasn’t your fault, so please don’t think too much about it.”

They still talked, they were still friends, but Viktor hadn’t forgiven himself for that stunt.

And then when things with Yura started, he had thought Yura would understand that they could never be together _together._ Not here, not in this country where their very existence was detested.

And it wasn’t like Viktor could ask Yura to leave everything behind and go with him to America or Europe or anywhere really. He couldn’t do that to him. He loved him too much to force those decisions on him right now.

Despite Viktor sending him a _Happy New Years'_ text Yura doesn’t reply to him for the next couple of weeks, he doesn’t even show up at Viktor’s house or call him. There’s nothing but radio silence and Viktor tries to make peace with that. Tries to accept that everything started and ended at Yuri’s say so but as the weeks turned to months he couldn’t help feeling the anxiety pile up.

In the end, he caved and went to his apartment.

When Yuri pulls the door open, he stares at Viktor for a long time without saying anything. It unnerves him.

“I came to apologize,” Viktor says, finally, “I was very condescending. You didn’t deserve that.”

Yuri still doesn’t say anything and to Viktor, this seems like all that’s left. He nods, “Well, that’s all.” He turns away but Yuri balls his hand on the lapels of his suit and pulls him inside the apartment. Before Viktor can really understand what’s happening, Yuri’s kissing him insistently and Viktor returns his kiss fervently.

He presses Yuri to the back of the door and Yuri jumps to wrap his legs around his waist.Viktor holds him in place and tries to somehow keep his head above water but his brain short-circuits when Yuri pleads, “Please.” He grinds his hips upwards and Viktor can feel his hardness on his stomach, “ _Please_ it’s only two weeks away. _Please._ ”

Viktor presses him closer, lowering him just a bit and shifting his hips so their cocks are pressing against each other, “Yes,” Viktor moans, as he admits defeat, “Okay.”

Later, much later, when their breathing has evened out and their hearts are no longer trying to escape their chests Yuri confesses, “I told him.” He pauses and then adds, “That liked men.”

Viktor squeezes his hand and asks, almost afraid of the answer, “And how did he react?”

“He told me he’ll always love me,” Yuri says, pressing his face to the crook of Viktor’s neck.

The older man releases a sigh of relief, almost as if a weight was being lifted off his shoulders. Maybe he’d become too cowardly.

“I’m glad he said that.”

Yuri nods, “I’m sorry I didn’t think things through more.”

“I’m sorry too,” Viktor says. “For reacting the way I did.”

And two weeks later, for Yuri’s eighteen birthday, he buys a bottle of expensive Vodka and squares his shoulders as he pressed the doorbell to Yuri’s grandfather’s house.

Maybe Viktor was too cowardly and jaded but Yuri was bold and courageous enough for both of them.

* * *

Viktor pushes the door to the bedroom open and his eyes immediately land on the lump on the bed. He sets the food he has on a tray on the nightstand and pulls the covers off of his sleeping beauty.

“Yuraaa,” He murmurs into the crook of his neck as he peppers kisses on him, “Dinner’s ready.”

Yuri shifts, groaning and mumbling, “Not hungry.”

Viktor is immensely glad his fever broke yesterday, now the only thing remaining of the cold from hell is a faint cough.

“Come on,” The older man says pressing a kiss to his cheek, “You have to eat something.”

“Blehh,” Yura mock-gags, still half asleep, “Don’t wanna.”

Viktor doesn’t press further, but he doesn’t leave Yuri alone either. He’s mouthing kissed to his neck now, pulling his arms out of the way to get a better reach.

He pulls back and looks down as Yuri drowsily stares up at him, blinking himself awake.

Viktor had gone through a lot to get Yuri for himself. He’d faced his grandfather who had pulled a shotgun on him but Yuri to this day maintained that it had only been a bad joke. Viktor maintained that it _wasn’t._

Old man Nikolai had only heavily sighed when Yuri, with a beaming smile, had said, “My boyfriend!” Viktor had been prepared for anything literally _anything_ except for Nikolai’s reluctant approval.

“I’ve known he loved you since he followed you to Japan,” Nikolai admitted later when Yuri had been temporarily out of the room, “I thought maybe he’d eventually get over it,” He shrugged, “Children often do, but he always goes after what he wants,” He stared at Viktor as if he was looking through his soul, “And he often gets it.” He begins to open the Vodka Viktor had brought as an offering, “I won’t ask when you began dating because if I didn’t like the answer I might kill you and that would upset him.” He poured two shot glasses and slid one over to him, “But hurt him and I really will use that.” He finished motioning to the shotgun that was still on the table.

Viktor had made sure to keep his promise.

“I don’t want dinner,” Yuri says, breaking Viktor out of his thoughts, he didn’t look sleepy anymore, “I think I want something else.”

Viktor raised his eyebrows and teasingly said, “Anything I can help you with?”

“Haha,” Yuri drily responded as he pulled Victor down to kiss him. “Put your mouth to good use.”

And indeed Viktor did.

He stole his breath first and then trailed kissed down his neck and got rid of his shirt once it became an obstacle. He ran his hands down Yuri’s chest and stomach, murmuring into his skin sweet nothings that made Yuri squirm. Viktor wordlessly pulled down Yuri’s sweats and teased Yuri’s thighs and navel. Licking him and kissing him everywhere _but_ the one place Yuri wanted. His lover made such a helpless sound that it went straight to Viktor’s cock and he wished he could tease him more but Yuri has already had a rough week, no need to make it worse.

So with that thought, he took his delicious cock into his mouth, sucking it until Yuri was breathing heavily, shifting his hips in that telltale way of his that meant he was going to come. But just when he was, Viktor pulled away and Yuri cursed, “ _Motherfucker_.”

“Sorry,” Viktor said, almost laughing, wiping his bottom lip.

“You piece of shit,” Yuri complained, pulling his arm over his eyes, “Why did you stop I was _so_ close.”

“I know,” He said apologetically, “But…are you up for riding my face?”

Yuri moved his arm and looked up at Viktor curiously, “Why?”

“Why not?”

Yuri rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine. Make a sick person do all the work.”

“You know it’s not like that,” Viktor said as he flopped down on his back and Yuri removed his sweatpants completely.

“Whatever,” Yuri muttered as he swung a leg over Viktor’s waist and shuffled himself upward until he was sitting on Viktor’s chest.

The older caresses his thighs, his mouth almost watering at the treat he was going to receive. He knew Yuri liked doing this almost as Viktor liked Yuri sucking him off with red lipstick on.

Viktor opened his mouth and Yuri slid easily in and the younger released a groan, digging his hands into Viktor’s hair and he tried to push down deeper. Viktor let his throat relax and he gave Yuri’s thigh three taps before bracing himself.

His lover grabbed his head with both hands and pushed himself down until cock was touching the back of Viktor’s throat. He pulled back only to thrust in again and again and again until he was humping Viktor’s face with all the strength he could muster. The older helps him by grabbing the globes of his ass and urging him on. Yuri moans, once again closer to ecstasy and Viktor doesn’t stop him this time. He lets Yuri push in until his thighs are shaking and clamping down on him. Viktor swallows his essence all up until there’s nothing left.

Yuri breathes heavily above him, looking down at Viktor with unfocused eyes. He sits back and his cock pops out of Viktor’s mouth.

“You’re so gross,” Yuri says when Viktor scoops up a bit of semen that he’d missed from Yuri’s softened cock.

Viktor licks his finger, “You’re delicious.”

Yuri makes a face, “Disgusting.”

He lets himself fall back into the bed and he lays his head on Viktor’s shoulder. He looks down at the tent in Viktor’s pants. “Do you want me to suck you off?”

“Not yet,” He answers, closing his eyes and willing his erection to go down. If there’s one downside to being with a man twelve years younger is that age does becomes a factor whether you want to or not. Yuri could get hard again, in a maybe half an hour but for Viktor it was longer. But if he played his cards right, and made himself last, the reward was more than satisfactory. Later, he’d have Yuri ride him again.

For now, what he wanted was to get Yuri to actually eat his dinner.

“You should eat.” He tells him.

Yuri rolled his eyes but did as he asked reluctantly.

“It’s good,” He said, as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Great,” Viktor said, still laying on his back and not moving.

Yuri looked at him and shook his head.

“What is it?”

He stays quiet for a long time and Viktor just waits.

“I really wanted to go on Vacation,” Yuri finally says, moving the food on his plate around dejectedly.

“We can go any time you want,” He tells him. Because it’s true, now that Viktor was retired his schedule was a lot more flexible.

Yuri shakes his head and then says, “I was going to propose.”

Viktor cannot help it, he gapes. Openly.

“I had rings and everything,” Yuri continues as if he were talking about the weather and not flipping Viktor’s entire life upside down.

Viktor opens and closes his mouth for a long time. Eventually he settles on, “We can’t get married in Russia.”

“Yeah I know that,” Yuri peevishly answers, “We’re going to move.”

Viktor’s heart is racing him his chest and before he can say anything Yuri cuts, “And you better not say some stupid shit like _you’re too young,_ ” He mocks in a whiny voice, “I’m twenty-four. And I wanna marry you.”

Viktor clears his throat, forcefully removing the knot there, “But what about skating?”

Yuri shrugs nonchalant, “I don’t mind representing another country.”

Viktor stares at him and stares and stares. Yuri stares back.

Viktor knows that once they leave Russia and make their relationship public he would loose a lot of friends and fans and support. He knows that his relationship with Yuri will be scrutinized down to the very last detail. They’ll call him a pedophile, a child groomer, a disgusting piece of shit. No matter how much Yuri denies it or tries to argue against it many people will say he’s a victim of Viktor’s perversion. They’ll twist Viktor’s love into something awful. He feels scared again, like that time Yuri wanted to introduce him to his grandfather, but Yuri’s eyes are steady and so sure.

There are so many things Viktor would like to say, so many things they still have to work out but he can’t be bothered to mention them. He will trust Yuri.

“I like Switzerland,” Viktor says, “Or maybe Norway?”

Yuri smiles wide, “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

And Viktor believes that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lololol, i wasn't gonna expand on this but i thought this was a good addition. i just wanted to dabble on yuri's immaturity and viktor's jaded mindset. idk if it's interesting but i thougth it was so...lolol...anyway, thanks for reading, tell me if you enjoyed it. i'd appreciate it.  
> tootles.

**Author's Note:**

> uh, i got nothing to say other than I hope you liked it....


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